


A Snake's Place

by Walking_Disaster



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is a comfy snake, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 14:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walking_Disaster/pseuds/Walking_Disaster
Summary: Crowley dream of his Fall in Hell. Luckily, Aziraphale is right there, ready to comfort him.





	A Snake's Place

A Snake's Place

  


  


  


He was falling from the sky. Like a little burning rock, an insignificant meteorite. He was falling and falling, so fast it hurt his throat, his eyes wide open. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't hear anything except for his own confused screams. 

  
_Stop!___  
_No._   
_STOP! I'll die!_  
_You can't die. You failed your purpose_

__

  
He reached the ground and it opened under his back, swallowing him. There were roots, holes, magma, warmth. Crawly saw everything, between ground and rocks, feeling like his skin ripped more and more, while his being was stuck deep inside the center of the newborn Earth.  
After five seconds, or maybe two years, he stopped. The end of the fall wasn't painful. He just... stopped.  
Everything was absolutely dark. All around him was only a deep dark emptiness. He tried to put his hand in front of his eyes. He could see nothing at all. He tried to touch what was near him, but everything was empty.  
“Wh-where am I”, he said after a moment. He gasped, mouth open. His voice was hoarser and he felt like he had swallowed sand. He grabbed his throat, squeezing it.  
He didn't know what answer he excepted, or who was listening. If someone was listening, of course.  
“I said, _where the fuck am I_?”, he cried out, an existential fear in his voice.  
“Where you belong now, my creature.”  
The voice was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, deep and unreal and distant. It was right beside Crawly and inside his mind.  
“Who are you?!”, he was like an old dog, crawling at the ground.  
“I'm your new Master. You will be my weapon, unable to say no, unable to say yes. You will be on Earth just to bring disgrace and pain to humankind.”  
“Wh-what--” Crawly felt a single tear rolls down his cheek, looking above him without seeing anything but darkness.  
It was not difficult to understand, now: he’d fallen. He’d lost his grace, like a tiny, infinite hole at the center of his chest. He wasn't a good angel. They told him more than once: “_You think too much. Obey. Obey. Obey._”  
But why was he there if he couldn't ask, inquire about Good and Bad?  
“Your new name is Crawly. They told me you're sneaky, just like a vicious serpent. And it will be your appearance. You'll never fly again, you'll never feel the grace of God again. You'll just crawl on Earth, bringing new brothers and sisters here. You'll only have this for eternity: me, Hell, and sulfur.”  
And while Satan said so, Crawly froze, the demon felt lashes. Everywhere, above him, next to him, inside him – lashes. He felt his wings burn, his skin turn to slimy scales. His bones collapsed, becoming something else. Something wrong. At some point, he could swear his eyes were about to explode, leaving him blind, in a whole new world with a lot of things to be seen. And he was screaming. Screaming, just like he could stop the pain and the humiliation. And the screams stopped, and he was crawling, hissing and testing the surroundings with his tongue.  
_“And now stop, my dear. You're Crowley. You're safe.” _  
He thought _“what?”_, because as a snake he wasn't able to speak.  
_“You're home.”_  
  
He woke up breathless, nails scratching his naked chest. He touched his cheeks and found tears.  
“My dear?,” called a familiar and calming voice. The same from the nightmare.  
He was at home. Home. Aziraphale was there. Home.  
The angel entered his space, a hand gently touching his fingers. He wasn't sleeping. Aziraphale didn't like to sleep. During the night he preferred to read and study and all the other stuff. But he did all of these things in the bedroom where Crowley, on the contrary, slept almost every night. It wasn't necessary of course, but the demon loved it. Most of the time.  
“Crowley?” Aziraphale said again.  
“Uh- ye-yes... I was...” Crowley answered, clearing his throat. He looked at the kind face of his personal angel. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
“It was a nightmare. I know. Do you want to talk about it?”, the angel offered, sitting next to him and wiping out the tears of his cheeks.  
“Can you give me a mirror? Please?” Crowley said quietly.  
Aziraphale did it, without a question. He just snapped his finger and he had the mirror. He let Crowley take it, and after a moment the demon was looking at himself. He softly touched the little mark of the serpent under his sideburn, the reptilian eyes confused and interrogative in the reflection.  
“What was that, dear?” Aziraphale asked again. Softly, just like a delicate flower on top of his lips.  
“I dreamed of my fall. It was painful just like when it happened for real. I heard the voice of God and then the voice of Satan. He called me His weapon, He took my wings and He gave me this appearance and these fucking eyes.”  
The voice was monotonous, as if he was repeating a boring and useless statement. Crowley covered his face with his hands, taking a deep breath. It had been 6000 years and he continued to be tortured by those memories. He could smell the sulfur, if he thought about it.  
Aziraphale, silent until that moment, gently cupped Crowley's face in his hands. He caressed his cheekbones with his thumbs, a little smile on his lips.  
“We are a dimension away from them, and 6000 years away from that event. You can't talk like this about your beautiful eyes – I love those eyes.”  
“My eyes are creepy, Aziraphale.”  
“I love your eyes.”, the angel repeated, quietly. He stroked Crowley’s red hair, his eyebrows, and gently touched his eyelids.  
After a moment, Crowley smiled a little.  
“I heard your voice, too.”  
“Yes, I know. I was there. I saw what they did to you.”, said the angel, now sad. Crowley shook a bit, suddenly aware of his angel's feelings.  
“And I'm so, so sorry, Crowley. I can't ask you to forgive them, but let me tell you something: you are you. You're not a weapon, you're not a snake, you don't bring disgrace and disorder wherever you go. I mean, look at us: we're here, together, exactly because you're you.”  
Home. It was still a weird concept, for Crowley. The old, filthy Crawly. The new one. Not new-new, but new enough to be there. To, maybe, be happy.  
Crowely smiled. He felt his neck become red, but Aziraphale didn't point it out.  
“And because you are you, my angel.”  
Aziraphale, soft as always, smiled like a child. He brought Crowley's hands to his lips and kissed his fingers. One by one.  
“You're not with Satan, nor with God. You're with me and I will protect you, my dear. You're home. You can sleep again, if you want, and I'll be right here beside you.”  
Crowley giggled, a laugh directly from his throat.  
“Like a guardian angel?”  
Aziraphale smiled at him. He nodded and kissed softly his lips.  
“Just like a guardian angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First time in english section, so have mercy of my poor pizza eater ass. 
> 
> I have to say a big thank you to [ stravaganza ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stravaganza/profile) and [ Valpur ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valpur/pseuds/Valpur), because they helped me, attentive and kind. I love you.  
Hope it was nice, let me know what you think about this little FF!


End file.
